I Can't Stand You
by lemonygoodness1998
Summary: Kyoya Ootori is cool and collected. Andi Konanawa is sarcastic and hot-headed. Kyoya is the son of the CEO of Japan's best medical supply company. Andi is receiving an experimental treatment from one of it testing facilities. When Kyoya is charged with responsibility for the girl, will opposites attract? Or will one of those opposites procure a murder weapon?
1. Prologue

PROLOGUE

Kyoya's POV

"For the last time, I know you're Hikaru and you're Kaoru! Quit following me!" the girl yelled at the twins. They smirked at each other and each hooked an arm under the girl's to drag her down the hallway.

I sighed and pushed up my glasses. Between Tamaki, the host club, school, familial obligations, and now this girl to look after at school, I was going to explode.


	2. Chapter 1

CHAPTER 1

Kyoya's POV

It had begun like any normal day: I had gotten up, eaten breakfast, been driven to Ouran Academy, attended my classes, and worked on the Host Club's finances in the back of Music Room 3. But when I got a call from my father as I was leaving the Host Club for the day, I knew this would not be like any normal day.

I flipped open my cell phone and pressed it to my ear.

"Kyoya Ootori speaking," I addressed the caller.

"Kyoya," my father's voice said through the phone, "please come to Jotanu immediately. I have a favor to ask of you." A click informed me that he had hung up. I shut my phone and placed it back into my jacket's pocket as I pushed my glasses up the bridge of my nose. My father was perpetually blunt, but he was an excellent businessman. When I slid into the car waiting for me I told the driver to take me to Jotanu.

Jotanu General Hospital was one of my family's most loyal customers, so it did not surprise me that my father would ask me to visit it. What did surprise me was the diction he used. "Favor" was not a word often used in my family. It implied some kind of personal connection, connections of which my family had very few. I deduced that it must be regarding my status as an Ouran student, as he could have easily requested the favor from one of my older brothers. The exact nature of the favor, however, I could not fathom.

I pulled up in front of Jotanu exactly twenty-two minutes since leaving the school. I got out of the car, pulled my school satchel from the seat nearest me, ascended the steps, entered the building, and approached the woman who sat behind the front information desk. I greeted her with an obligatory smile.

"Hello, ma'am," I addressed her. "My name is Kyoya Ootori and I am looking for my father. He said he had a favor to ask of me." She smiled back and pointed me in the right direction: down the hall to the left, to the elevator where I would go to the basement.

After following her directions I found myself in a sterilely-lit basement with foam-tiled ceilings. My father, surprisingly, was there to greet me.

"Hello, Father," I said.

"Kyoya," he addressed me. "I told you I had a favor to ask of you."

I nodded once. "You did indeed do as such."

"Come with me, then," he told me. He began to walk down the hallway before him, so I followed, always walking slightly behind him as was custom. He stopped before a set of large steel doors and slid a keycard through the scanner mounted to the wall beside them. The doors slid from view and allowed us to pass. Behind the doors lay another hallway lit by harsh fluorescent light bulbs, a hallway which ended, once again, in a pair of steel doors. Upon arriving at the doors, he turned to me.

"What you are about to see behind these doors must never be revealed. Not even to Fuyumi must you speak of this. Do you understand?"

"Yes, sir," I answered. With that he swiped his card and allowed me entry.

Behind the set of doors was what appeared to be a police interrogation observation room, only this room was equipped with a row of bulky Ootori medical equipment at its front. The room was dark; the only light came from the small LEDs and screens on the equipment and from a long window that ran above it. I knew that the window must be a two-way mirror so as not to alarm whatever, or whoever, sat in the room. My father entered behind me and closed the doors with another swipe of his card.

"This is an observation room, Kyoya," he said. "On the other side of that two-way mirror lies the favor I wish to ask of you."

Through the window I could see nothing complicated as I would have thought. There was no computer to program or check to balance, no Tokyo socialites to greet or equipment to pitch. Rather, there was only a young woman in a black sweatshirt and slim jeans lying on a small cot. She crossed her hands behind her head and stared at the ceiling. I looked to my father for clarification.

"This is Oleander Konanawa, an American girl here to partake of a Japanese drug trial," he explained. "The trial has been deemed a success, so she will begin attending your school tomorrow. I would like you to be her guide tomorrow and to look out for her for the rest of the semester."

"I will do my best, sir."

"I am not finished," he glared from the corners of his eyes. "She has a condition which changes the color of her eyes. If you observe that her eyes have turned red, immediately remove her from whatever situation she is currently in and return her to this facility. We will take care of her from there. All other information is to be withheld from you and only introduced on a need-to-know basis. Now I am finished."

"Thank you, Father," I responded. I followed him back to the basement's lobby and rode the elevator up to the main lobby. I would then slide back into the car which waited for me and return home to complete a slew of homework and begin working on the Club's finances once more. The girl slipped completely from my mind.

Little did I know just how much trouble she would be.


	3. Chapter 2

CHAPTER 2

Kyoya's POV

I stood waiting for the girl at the top of the steps outside Ouran. There were still three minutes before she was due to arrive, but I was still anxious to get in out of the rain. When the car finally pulled up before the main entrance I strode down the stairs, umbrella in hand, to open her door for her. Before I could even think about opening the door it popped open from the inside, a small pale hand gripping the handle.

"Good morning, Miss Konanawa-"

"Andi," she corrected me swiftly. "Just... call me Andi. No 'miss' or anything." She sighed and looked down before setting her jaw and stepping out of the car.

She wasn't wearing the Ouran Academy girl's uniform. She wasn't wearing the boy's uniform, either. Rather, she was in the same clothes she wore yesterday; a black hooded sweatshirt and black jeans. I thought it odd that my father wouldn't have provided a uniform for her.

I held the umbrella over her head as she got out.

"I'm fine," she said, waving the umbrella away and pulling up her hood. She swiftly trotted up the stairs and into the business office, leaving me with the umbrella. I thanked the driver and went after her.

I found her in the business office talking with the woman at the desk. The woman handed Miss Konanawa a folded slip of paper, presumably a schedule, across the desk just as the 7:30 bell rang.

"Andi," I addressed. "You may or may not know this but I am to be your guide for the day. I'd be more effective if you'd not run off." She froze at the desk and seemed to calm herself, then turn to me.

"Look," she said gently. "I've already memorized the blueprints of this place. I already knew my schedule and I have that memorized, too. I can handle myself pretty well. I don't need your help. Thank you, though." She walked through the glass door and into the main hall. I heard a quiet English swear from the other side of the door.

"That can't be a good sign."

On the other side of the door, a crowd of students had closed in on her.

"Isn't she adorable!?"

"She's not wearing any makeup! Do commoners not have that?"

"She's so poor she can't even afford a uniform! Poor girl!"

Miss Konanawa was pressed flush against the wall as the crowd of students accosted her about commoner life and culture. I pressed through the crowd and took her by the arm.

"Here," I said. "They'll keep their distance if one of their own is with you."

She quickly retracted her arm from mine and jumped back.

"I told you I don't need you," she said harshly. "I just want to be left alone."

"I have been designated by the Ootori company-"

"To look out for me, I know. I don't care. Leave me alone." She elbowed her way unceremoniously through the crowd and hurried to her first period class. The crowd followed her, leaving only me and Haruhi behind.

"The whole Host Club other than you and me is in there," she said. I sighed and pushed my glasses up.

"It doesn't surprise me."

"I hope they don't trample the poor girl."

"Something tells me that you should be more concerned that she doesn't murder the crowd."

By the end of the day I had had several incidents with the girl during one of which she threatened to turn me inside out through my rectum. Though physically impossible, I still stepped back as I realized she might actually try.

I sat in my usual spot while the Host Club sat with the young ladies who came into Music Room 3. I opened another tab to work on our PayPal account when I heard the doors burst open. We all looked up to see Miss Konanawa with a shocked and mortified expression on her face. A horde of students was visible behind her. Unfortunately, Tamaki took it upon himself to "introduce" her to the host club.

"Good afternoon, Princ- OW!"

He had inadvertently scared the girl, who had taken the liberty to scream slightly and punch him hard in the nose. The Host Club King now cowered in a corner with a bloody nose and a black cloud hanging over him. She said nothing, but merely stared at the scene she had caused with a confused expression painting her face. Evidently she decided to take advantage of the situation.

She turned to the crowd behind her.

"Take that as a warning," she said while pointing at Tamaki. The crowd slowly backed away and left her alone. She leaned against the doorframe and covered her face with her hands.

I tried to get to her before the twins did, but to no avail. Hikaru and Kaoru advanced upon her like a pair of wolves, nearly growling.

"What's the big idea here?" one asked.

"There's no big idea. Just a big mistake," Miss Konanawa answered him. She removed her hands from her face and stuffed them in her sweatshirt pocket. "I didn't mean to punch him. It's a reflex."

"Miss Konanawa has taken five years of martial arts in the UK," I lied smoothly. "It really has become an automatic reaction to her." She looked at me, understanding, and nodded. One of the twins sheepishly scratched the back of his head.

"Sorry Miss Konanawa," he said with a smile. "We're just looking out for our leader."

"I know. It's okay. Sorry to burst in on... whatever this is," she apologized.

"Miss Konanawa, could I have a word with you? Outside, preferably?" I asked her politely.

"Certainly," she quipped.

I led her into the hallway and closed the doors of Music Room 3.

"I am so sorry-"

"No need to apologize. I'm sure at least two of us have wanted to see that happen for a very long time. Myself included." I leaned against the wall and pushed my glasses up the bridge of my nose.

"I'll keep that in mind, then."

"Please don't," I told her. "I asked you out here because I wanted to know why you punched Tamaki."

"I already told the twins, _it is a_ _reflex,"_ she said, punctuating each word of the second clause with a hand gesture.

"I am aware. I simply wanted an explanation as to why it is a reflex. I have been specifically instructed to conduct no research on you, so I have no idea." She fidgeted in her spot.

"Look, could we just drop it?" she asked nervously. "I'd prefer not to say anything on the subject."

"Certainly, Miss Konanawa."

"Please don't call me that," she said with a wince. "Just Andi."

"I'll keep that in mind then," I copied her words. She gave me a blank look and left, hands shoved deep in her pocket.


	4. Chapter 3

CHAPTER 3

Andi's POV

_I lay in a cold white room. I couldn't move. It was like someone had put fifty pound weights into my bloodstream – everything felt so heavy, even my eyelids. The room was empty save for a bookshelf, a TV mounted to the wall, and a chair at my bedside in which my mother sat. She noticed me stirring and ran a hand over my hair._

_"Just rest, sweetheart," she said. As a rather tenacious child, I would have none of it._

_"Where am I?" I managed. My jaw hurt. Everything hurt._

_"You're in the hospital, Ollie," my mother told me._

_"Why?"_

_"You fainted in school today._

_"Oh."_

_A man bolted through the door and screamed. It went black._

When I awoke it was the middle of the night. I was all alone in the dormitory I had been assigned at Ouran. I tried to move, but all of my energy was focused on keeping air moving in and out of my lungs. I was paralyzed.

That was the second time in two nights I'd had that nightmare. I didn't know why it was so terrifying – it was just a snippet from my past with an added jumpscare. Maybe because that day had been the beginning of everything.

The paralysis faded and I was finally able to sit up on my bed. I help my head and my hands and tried not to think about it. Thought about anything else – the sheer curtains reflecting the moonlight, my ragged fingernails, how excruciatingly tight my shirt was around my back.

Kyoya's POV

The next day she had purple bags underneath her eyes; it was obvious that she had gotten little to no sleep the previous night.

"Good morning, Miss Konanawa," I greeted. "Did you sleep well?" She glared at me from the corners of her eyes.

"No, I did not sleep well, and I'm tired of your 'Miss Konanawa' bullshit," she spat. She had definitely had a rough night.

"I am sorry to hear that," I told her. "Perhaps you would like to exchange your mattress for a different one? Ouran has an extensive mattress collection to suit your needs." She whirled on me.

"I'm going to assume your father's hand is not currently shoved up your ass, so you don't need to be a puppet for him. You don't have to be so formal around me. It's condescending."

I felt a spark of annoyance flick up within me. She certainly was an inconvenience.

We currently sat in what we discovered yesterday was our shared first period. I sat in the desk directly beside her, all the more convenient for checking her eyes for redness.

The room fell almost silent, as if waiting to see what she would do next. Actually I do believe the entire class was waiting with bated breath to hear the outcome of the exchange. I merely slid my glasses farther up my nose and returned to my assignment.

"I am sorry you feel that way," I said and ignored her. The class let out a collective sigh of relief. Miss Konanawa would not be gaining any powerful enemies just yet.

After class I tried to speak with her once more.

"Please don't talk to me," she said.

That was the last time I tried speak with her that day.

Although I neither attempted to nor wanted to speak with her, I still had the responsibility of looking out for any changes in eye color. Upon observing her I inadvertently noticed several details of her behavior.

She spoke very little and never in front of the class. She ate lunch alone and tried to work and be alone as often as possible. All the erasers on her pencils were worn down to the metal nub and she had an annoying habit of tapping them against her notebooks. She drew hands and music staffs in the corners of her papers. She had a separate folder for doodles in each of her notebooks. She never smiled. She never laughed, except sarcastically, and she never leaned back against her chair, only forward onto the desk.


	5. Chapter 4

CHAPTER 4

Kyoya's POV

Part of my duty to look after the girl included sleeping in an Ouran dormitory. Why? Simply stated, because Miss Konanawa also stayed in one. Less simply stated, because we, my father and I, were afraid she might do harm to the school or student body in some way if left unattended. My father had instructed me not to let Miss Konanawa know I also lived in a dormitory, so I was obliged to stay in my room for the majority of the time, leaving her to think she was the only one in the school at night.

I currently sat in an armchair in my dormitory working on the Club's finances; Tamaki had deigned it necessary to purchase several new sets of cosplay costumes, all of which were particularly elaborate, so I was tasked with reorganizing the budget to cover the expense. Just as I finished a new number popped onto our PayPal account. The Host Club King had just purchased another set of costumes.

I placed the computer on the floor in front of me and my head in my hands. I would never be able to comprehend how he could so flippantly spend the Club's money. Warding off a painful headache, I decided to wander the halls to clear my mind.

I turned left out of my dormitory and strode quietly down the long hallway of unoccupied Ouran dormitories, taking particular care to remain silent as I passed Miss Konanawa's. Another left turn and a hallway and I had left the high school dormitories; another five minutes and I had left the residential wing of the school. Unconsciously, I followed the familiar path I took as I went from class to class each day, a process which calmed the pain in my forehead considerably. It was only when I reached the final class of the day, economics, that I realized there was music playing somewhere in the school.

It was faint at first, like the distant pings of chandelier pendants as they collide in the breeze of an air conditioner, but as I drew closer to the Host Club's room, it grew louder. I could now make out the gentle sound of a piano being played, though I was still far enough away that the notes blurred together. For the first time that night I remembered that the Host Club's room was, indeed, a music room.

When I reached the room's doors I pressed my ear against them. It was unmistakable; someone was playing the piano which occupied the corner of the room, and playing it quite well. The song was haunting, dissonant, like if incompleteness could have a sound or key.

It was slightly shocking at first, the thought of a young woman such as her playing such an elegant instrument, but the powerful undertones held in the music assured me that it indeed was she who sat at the piano's bench. In addition to the quality of the song, there was only one other person who lived in the Ouran dormitories – Miss Konanawa.

Andi's POV

_CRASH_.

I crashed my hands down into the keys again, loving how they depressed under my fingers and made that deliciously dissonant noise. It had been far too long since I'd played, far too long since I'd even seen a piece of music.

That day, when I had found myself in the Ootori boy's... clubhouse, I could hardly bring myself to tear my eyes away from the big white piano in the corner. Not exactly my style, but it was enough.

My fingers flew of their own doing across the keyboard, pressing too hard against the imitation ivory. I had to feel the plastic heat up under the pads of my fingers; it was the only way I could know I wasn't just dreaming again, so I kept playing, just adding on more repetitions of the chorus or little trills with my fingertips. Keep moving. Just feel it. Always keep yourself moving. That was something my mother taught me.

I slammed myself into the keys again, almost like I was trying to fuse with the plastic. If I could heat up the keys enough, I could become one with the music. Like I was trying to push my soul in through the keys. My sweaty hands slid, my hair stuck to my face, but I didn't care. I was playing again. I laughed wildly as I swiped my hand down the keyboard and pushed in another chord.

I was flying.

I suddenly couldn't breathe. My shirt was too tight on my back and I couldn't breathe. I stopped playing with a jolt, a dissonant chord stopping mid-push. Falling sideways off the bench, the wind was knocked further out of me as I hit the ground. I forced myself to breathe – in out, in out. With a large gasp I got air back into my lungs and began to pant normally.

I left and ran all the way back to my dormitory. By the time I got to the room I was even more winded, breathe coming in cold and sharp through my throat. I collapsed onto the bed.

I needed to be more careful with my words.


End file.
